


Swordplay and Lace

by fancywaffles



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimilix NSFW Bingo (Fire Emblem), Established Relationship, Felix Fraldarius is a Competitive Asshole, Knifeplay (but with swords), Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Spanking, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26033374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancywaffles/pseuds/fancywaffles
Summary: Felix has a new rare Zoltan sword that he refuses to let Dimitri touch. Dimitri comes up with a way to prove he is very good at delicate swordplay.(or, something sexy with swords)
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 26
Kudos: 93
Collections: Dimilix NSFW Bingo





	1. Swordplay & Lace

**Author's Note:**

> For Dimilix NSFW Bingo, because I am a competitive asshole with myself and wanted two bingos. For the squares: Something Sexy with Swords, Biting, Free Space (Spanking or Competitive Kink), Lingerie, and Throne. 
> 
> (throne is only mentioned, but there will be a horny Throne coda to follow, either way I'm counting it)

“No,” Felix said.

“But—”

“ _No_ ,” Felix repeated. “I got this sword off an estate sale in Enbarr, I’m not letting you touch it and break it.”

Dimitri frowned. “I have mastered control of myself and am more than proficient with sword work. Honestly, Felix, I’m not going to break it.”

“That is what you said the last time.”

“That was years ago,” Dimitri protested. Felix was being ridiculous. “I don’t even want to wield it, I only want to look at it.”

“No,” Felix said again, setting his jaw.

“I could order you,” Dimtri said, “as your king.” Felix didn’t look impressed, which was understandable since Dimitri didn’t sound convincing even to himself. “I’m not going to break it. I handle you fine.”

Felix’s lips twitched, but he remained solidly neutral otherwise. “That isn’t the same thing.”

“I think it is a clear indicator of my control,” Dimitri said, crossing his arms.

Felix had the sword in his left hand and placed his right on his hip. It was infuriatingly tempting from multiple angles. It wasn’t even the point now that he wanted to the hold the sword, it was the fact that Felix was telling him he couldn’t because of self-control. “You trust me not to break you,” Dimitri tried, pitching it slightly different.

He’d gotten at least partway there as a small flush pinked Felix’s skin. “I don’t mind if you break me,” Felix said, attempting to bat the banter back, but stumbling under his embarrassment at speaking such things out loud.

Dimitri took a few steps forward and Felix narrowed his eyes and held the sword aloft and at an angle away from him.

“Felix,” Dimitri said, lowering his an octave in the way that he knew Felix enjoyed. He put his own hand over the one Felix had rested on his hip. “Do you not trust me after all this time?”

Felix’s flush had increased and he was avoiding eye contact. A mere second of biting his lip and Dimitri thought maybe, but then Felix scoffed and took a step back.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Felix said. “You’re not seducing your way into holding it.”

“Why not?” Dimitri asked, enjoying the delightful squawk Felix made in response. “Let me prove I can handle delicate things.”

“I’m not delicate,” Felix said, glaring at him.

Dimitri didn’t want to argue that point, so he held his hands out in truce. “I could prove it with another sword. One you’re less attached to.”

One he wanted to look at less. Felix frowned at him. “I don’t think that would prove anything.”

Dimitri briefly considered _actually_ ordering him to let him hold it, but that was petty (and doubtful to work). “There has to be _something_ that will appease your paranoia.”

Felix tilted his head to appraise Dimitri and then smiled in a way that Dimitri did not think was going to go in his favor. “All right. You want to prove your control and sword work?”

Dimitri felt baited, but went with it anyway.

* * *

The agreement was thusly based on a swords master from Almyra a few months back that had performed a rather impressive (if more lewd than either of them had been expecting) trick of undoing his partner’s clothes with his sword without breaking her skin and with no major damage to the fabrics.

“You can’t wear your normal gear it’s hard enough to take off with my hands and I’m not taking off your boots with a sword, that’s insanity,” Dimitri said. When Felix assented, he continued with his terms. “And you have to at least raise your arms and help when I get the fabric lifted.”

“Fine,” Felix said. “If you can manage all of that without nicking me or shredding my clothes, you can hold the sword, but when you fail…”

“Oh for…”

“We fuck on the throne,” Felix finished, looking far too satisfied with himself.

He was such a competitive ass sometimes. “Why are you so preoccupied with that idea?” Dimitri had kept refusing, because some things were supposed to be sacred and he really didn’t like the _implication_ it lended itself. Besides, he wouldn’t have been shocked if it was the kind of thing his late uncle used to get up to and that put him off immediately.

Felix shrugged a lithe shoulder. “If you don’t think you can win, we can call it off.”

Dimitri, unfortunately, also enjoyed competition. “I don’t recall saying that.” He took a deep breath and then nodded once. “An agreement then?”

“With those terms, yes.”

* * *

Felix wore what he generally did when they traveled to somewhere with a warmer climate and were not expected for any political event (or often even then). He had a loose off-white blouse with a tan vest and matching pants that reminded Dimitri of the summer wear at Garreg Mach. He at least wasn’t wearing gaiters, though Dimitri didn’t dislike the idea of him only wearing them when this was over and he’d secured his win.

Dimitri had picked the sword he was using strategically, while he generally trained with something heavier (not the least of which the reason being it gave him an advantage against Felix’s quick riposting if he was able to counter him), this one was lighter, thinner, and rounded before the point.

“Levin sword would’ve been easier,” Felix taunted, his hands on his hips.

“I don’t need it to be easier,” Dimitri said. “Drop your arms.”

Felix did as requested and then Dimitri took the time to look him over before he decided where to start. The clasps on Felix’s vest were easy enough. Dimitri merely had to flick his wrist at an angle to get them unlatched. The more difficult bit was getting the sword tip into the inside of the vest without nicking Felix’s shirt or skin. Once he’d managed that he was able to push one side of the vest off and then the other.

“I should have raised the stakes,” Dimitri said, turning around Felix to decide his next plan of attack. “When I win I should wield the sword, not only hold it.”

“Not a chance,” Felix said.

“Are you sure?” Dimitri asked, coming around to face him again and smiling. “I do believe that undermines your supposed confidence in winning.”

Felix shifted his jaw and kicked his vest away with his foot, slightly tetchy. “You’re not going to win.”

“Then why not raise the stakes?” Dimitri asked. “To be fair, your side of things is more extreme than mine.”

“It’s not even the lewdest thing we’ve—” Felix cut himself off with a grunt. Then he fingered the fabric of his top and dropped his hands to his sides again. “Fine. In the impossible instance of you pulling this off, you can _have_ the damn sword.”

Dimitri raised his eyebrows and quirked his lips. “If you insist.”

Dimitri went for Felix’s trousers next, enjoying Felix’s sharp intake of breath as the sword tip came precariously close to the bulge there. It sounded more aroused than frightened, which was interesting. Dimitri concentrated on untying the laces. He knew he could cut through them fairly easily and technically it was within the limits of fair play since it wasn’t damage to the actual garment, but Felix’s overconfidence challenged him to show off.

Once that was done, Dimitri made his way towards Felix, leaning in close. “Impossible?”

Felix’s face blazed and he scoffed, looking away, but Dimitri could see from the rise of his chest that his breathing had increased. It was difficult to resist leaning in, especially this close to him, but Dimitri controlled himself and stepped to Felix’s side.

“It’s geometry, really,” Dimitri said, attempting to sound unaffected as he very carefully put the pointed tip of the sword through the middlemost belt hook in the back of Felix’s pants.

“How so?” Felix asked.

Once Dimitri caught the belt hook he tugged slightly and then Felix’s trousers slid down to his thighs. “I calculated the widest curve that was holding them up.”

The contortions Felix’s face went through while he thought up a response to that were amusing to observe, but Dimitri didn’t wait for him to finish before he pressed the flat edge of the blade against the now exposed skin of Felix’s thigh.

Felix breathed in sharply, but did not move away from it. “Nervous?” Dimitri asked, not meaning to mock this time.

Felix shook his head, the blush on his face stretched out to the tips of his ears now. “Not… no.”

Dimitri really couldn’t help the chuckle. “Finding swords arousing is a bit cliche for you, isn’t it?”

“Shut up,” Felix huffed.

Dimitri was able to push each pant leg down towards Felix’s ankles, carefully, and with focus. Not without some difficulty given the way Felix was biting his lip and that the long fabric of his blouse kept shifting and revealing different stripes of the skin it was covering where it hung over the tops of his leg. Dimitri wrenched his head away to stop staring and then finally put the sword between Felix’s pants, to hold them down while Felix stepped out of each leg.

Felix was flustered in more ways than one and Dimitri couldn’t help gloat a little. It had been insulting to imply he’d still break some of Felix’s things. He’d practically managed to sew with Mercedes’s help without bending a needle, after all.

“Mm, I think I’ll take my new sword out into town. Wear it for a bit and then offer challenges for a duel to those who’d take it up.”

“Getting ahead of yourself,” Felix said.

Dimitri made a pleased noise and smiled at him. “Am I?” he asked, while he did the easiest bit and moved the sword towards the inside of Felix’s blouse—which was loose, billowy and had plenty of fabric—then he lifted it up over Felix’s torso. And then Dimitri stalled, almost slicing through it.

Felix imitated his pleased noise. “Trouble, Dimitri?”

The sword was still balancing the weight of the small bundle of fabric he’d lifted and underneath it was an intricate webbing of gray-blue lingerie stretched over Felix’s stomach.

“Felix, that is unfair.”

Felix smirked. “You didn’t specify small clothes.”

“Those are _not_ your normal smalls,” Dimitri said, sharply. He doubted he’d be capable of letting Felix ever leave the bedroom if those were his regular wear.

“You didn’t specify that either,” Felix said.

“This is underhanded,” Dimitri said.

“If you want to call it…” Felix offered with a small smile that reminded Dimitri of the palace cats after being fed fresh milk.

Dimitri steeled himself and steadied his breathing. “No,” he said. He tried not to look at anything underneath Felix’s top and only focused on gathering the remaining fabric and lifting it high enough that Felix was obligated to lift his arms. The matter of a sharp object being this close to Felix’s face, sobered Dimitri a little, which honed his focus as he lifted the top so that it was almost above Felix’s head.

However, he made the tactical error of glancing down. Now that Felix’s entire torso was exposed, Dimitri could see the way the lace split intentionally at Felix’s belly and then went thinner as it rose to barely cover his nipples until it was hardly a string at his shoulders.

Dimitri wasn’t an expert in these types of garments, but he suspected that meant there may only have been a thin lace string in the back as well. He couldn’t recall seeing any lace when he’d gotten Felix’s trousers over the swell of his rear, so…

Dimitri still had the sword aimed at the crown of Felix’s head now, the fabric bunched and hanging near the sides of his biceps where his arms were lifted. Felix’s amber eyes were amused and the pupils wide. “Well?” he asked.

Dimitri tossed his sword aside with a loud clang. Felix’s victorious laugh was cut off as Dimitri reached forward and dragged him towards his own chest simultaneously tearing the shirt off. He threw it in a random direction where it wouldn’t impede his view for any longer. “You have absolutely no honor,” Dimitri growled, fingers sliding down the bare skin of Felix’s back, completely exposed minus a single bit of stringed lace down the middle.

Felix’s arms had automatically come around Dimitri’s neck. “Honor doesn’t matter if you lose.”

There was no response to that but to crush his lips to Felix’s, shutting him up. Felix’s sharp mouth was warm as Dimitri deepened the kiss with his tongue. After several passes of his hands over Felix’s back to be sure of his theory he lifted Felix up by his thighs and carried him to the bed, enjoying the satisfied huff of laughter in his ear.

Dimitri deposited Felix onto the bed and took the sight in as Felix sprawled out, barely covered, bits of laced fabric only emphasizing certain aspects of his form. He stared at Felix long enough that Felix started squirming at the attention and then Dimitri crawled over him on the bed, pressing him back into the mattress to claim his mouth again.

Once he’d gotten his fill and was unable to resist anymore, Dimitri started his closer observation, by moving down Felix’s torso, fingers skimming against the the underside of the lace as he went. 

“Where did you even get this?” Dimitri asked as he pressed his thumb against the lace that was doing a piss poor job of covering Felix’s very erect nipple. “ _When_ did you get this?”

“Ah—I—there’s places, why does it—” Felix cut off in a strangled whine as Dimitri rubbed the lace of the fabric against the hard nub. Felix had lifted himself up by his elbows and now his head tipped back and Dimitri had an excellent view of the long line of skin and sinew from his neck down to the middle of his waist.

“You went into a shop,” Dimitri said, thumbing over the dip of skin where Felix’s bare hip met more lace. “And purchased _this_?” At Felix’s noncommittal noise, Dimitri scoffed in fond annoyance. “You really are monstrously competitive.”

“It was _your_ idea,” Felix said. “And…” He shifted his head to the side, embarrassed. “I didn’t buy it for this.”

“What did you purchase it for then?” Dimitri asked, marveling at how flushed Felix’s skin beneath was getting through some of the thinner parts of the design.

“I—I, I was trying—oh for fuck’s sake don’t make me say it,” Felix said.

Dimitri laughed. “You’re perfectly fine wearing this, but speaking of it bothers you?”

Felix dropped backwards onto the bed and covered his hands with his face. “Shut up.”

Were Dimitri not very close to the bulging press and stretch of Felix’s member hardening through the lace covering, he might have pushed it more. Instead, he mouthed over the lace fabric covering Felix’s length and drew a breathy litany of ‘fucks’ out of him.

There wasn’t a way for him to note the difference in taste of it, but Dimitri did find it novel that the texture of the lace over Felix was different than taking Felix into his mouth alone. The smell as well, there was a familiar musk mixed in with whatever remnant of dye the dyer or lacemakerhad used. He continued exploring that, while Felix swore and lifted his hips up, attempting to get leverage.

Dimitri held Felix’s hips down, luxuriating in the way Felix clawed his fingers into the sheets as he huffed in frustration. The stretch of the lace fabric was becoming precarious now as Felix’s erection strained against it.

“ _Dimitri_ ,” Felix panted, kicking his leg where he could at Dimitri’s back and then groaning as Dimitri’s chuckling response vibrated into his leg.

Purely out of experimentation, Dimitri pulled one of Felix’s legs closer until his thigh was up against his cheek and then turned to bite into the flesh. Felix’s wanton moans of, “Ahhn, ahh, ahhn!” peppered in and escalated as Dimitri then used his teeth to tear through the lace encaging Felix’s length, freeing it from its restraint.

“You could have taken it off!” Felix protested, but did not sound very convincing, especially not now that Dimitri could see the sweat of liquid at the tip of his cockhead.

“It looks as if it’s framing it,” Dimitri mused. When Felix lifted his hips again, out of frustration and arousal, Dimitri caught sight of the laced string in the back and tugged at it, earning more flustered and piteous noises. “Do you want me to take it off?” he asked.

“Nggh.” Felix squirmed after another tug. “Do whatever you want,” he said. “Just do _something_.”

Dimitri pressed his lips to the base of Felix’s cock, surrounded by torn lace. He drew his tongue against the underside, feeling the weighted press of it against his mouth. Felix was already wet at the tip, so when Dimitri swallowed him down, there was little resistance and an easy glide towards the back of his throat.

Felix’s hands were twisting in the sheets again, while his legs had come up around Dimitri’s shoulders, ankles pressing to urge him forward. Dimitri took his time, ignoring the frustrated moans as he moved his mouth off. Dimitri chased the edges of the lace with his fingers and tongue, comparing the texture as he sampled different spots covered and uncovered, up the span of Felix’s groin and then downwards, to where the lace tapered into hardly anything.

He tugged on that laced string again, tighter until Felix was having difficulty muffling his own moans. Dimitri slipped his fingers inside of the lingerie, working his way up the side of Felix’s hips, stretching each piece of lace as he went. At the same time, Dimitri lapped the foreskin of Felix’s length with his tongue and took it in full again, sucking his own cheeks hollow.

Felix was a mix of incoherent little grunts of Dimitri’s name and barely muffled keening as Dimitri continued, working his head over Felix’s length until finally, he came with a startled husky gasp.

Dimitri ran his hands down Felix’s bare thighs as he slowly released his softened length from his mouth, savoring Felix’s spend as if he could actually taste it. Felix reached out with his hands, gripped Dimitri’s shoulders and pulled until Dimitri was kissing him again. Then Felix worked his way into Dimitri’s trousers and between Felix’s long dextrous fingers and the sight of him in this outfit quick work was made of Dimitri’s own climax.

“Turn over so I can see the other side,” Dimitri said, rumbling it against the soft slope of Felix’s neck.

“Well, move then,” Felix said, shoving him over and then turning onto his front. The view confirmed that there was a single piece of lace that worked its way from a V at Felix’s shoulders to a trail down the middle of his spine and then making its way to disappear between the meaty cheeks of his rear.

“Did you… did you buy this yourself?” Dimitri asked. Imagining Felix going into a shop that sold these let alone picking one out for himself was an overwhelming pleasing image, if somehow hard to imagine being true. 

“No,” Felix said. “… I had some help. I’m not—well it worked, you clearly enjoy it—or enjoyed it, because you’re a rabid beast who tore the damn thing with your teeth.”

“Enjoy is an understatement,” Dimtri murmured, running his fingers over the skin next to the lace on Felix’s back. “Please tell me which of our friends I need to bestow land on for this.”

Felix didn’t answer that question, but he answered another. “I got it for our anniversary, but… I couldn’t bring myself up to wearing it.”

Dimitri stared down at Felix’s perfect back. Scars covered more than a portion of it, including one that went from his kidneys to the dimple on his back before the smooth curved almost S-shape that was the base of his spine to his rear from this angle. Their anniversary was months ago. “And yet you could find the bravery to win a bet?” Dimitri asked.

“I love that sword,” Felix said.

Reminded how close he was to winning before he’d seen Felix in this, gave Dimitri the motivation to lean forward and bite hard enough to leave a mark on the upturned bare cheek. He very much delighted in Felix’s responding squirm and hiss as Dimitri followed it up with a smack to the other cheek causing a light tremor in the skin of one of the few places Felix wasn’t only muscle.

“Sore loser,” Felix said, glaring at him.

“You said not to treat you delicately,” Dimitri said, he followed it up with another smack that had Felix biting his lip to keep from moaning. The bloom of pink there paired with the reddening teeth marks on the other side seemed to frame the bit of lace between them. He almost felt bad for tearing it earlier.

“I said I wasn’t delicate.” Felix looked over his shoulder at Dimitri, and upwards through a curtain of some of his own hair that had come loose from his bun. “You were… pretty controlled with the sword,” he begrudgingly admitted.

“Does that mean I can actually hold yours?” Dimitri asked, hope springing anew.

“No,” Felix said with a scoff. “You lost.”

Dimitri tugged the lace again. “Even if I used it like I did the other? Because you seemed to enjoy that.”

Felix stared at him and for maybe a second seemed to consider it. Then he said, “No,” yet again.

Dimitri responded with a somewhat harder slap, causing Felix to jolt in surprise. “You don’t have to be both petty _and_ a cheat,” he said and then spanked him again, mostly because it was such a nice target.

“You can’t brute—” Felix grunted at another slap. “—your way into me giving it to you either,” he said, petulant.

Dimitri chuckled. “We both know that’s not how hard I can hit.”

He proved his point with a thudding smack to Felix’s entire backside that had him swearing and slamming his fist into the mattress. He recovered swiftly and then kicked Dimitri in the shoulder. Dimitri used the opportunity to grasp his ankle and drag him closer. “That was not what I was doing anyway,” he said.

He’d ripped the front of the scant ensemble, but could see that Felix’s sack was still nestled into lace. Dimitri rubbed one knuckle against it and Felix made a breathy noise, while the foot that tried to kick him a moment earlier, was now attempting to draw him closer.

Dimitri had a better idea.

“I want to finish,” Dimitri said, standing up.

Felix pushed himself up to one elbow and raised an eyebrow. “You already lost.”

“I don’t care about the bet. I want to prove to you I can finish.” Not to mention simply tearing the thing off Felix did not seem enough.

Felix pushed himself up to standing, even more indecent now with the tear leaving his cock hanging in the air surrounded by lace.

“Take your hair down,” Dimitri told him.

Felix hesitated, no doubt preparing a taunt about Dimitri using the sword, but likely thought better of it given that might actually cut through his hair. The dark blue locks cascaded down his shoulders, joining the pieces that had already come loose. The ivory tone of his skin paired with the raven hair complimented the muted color of the lace he’d chosen. Sometimes it was difficult to look at Felix all at once.

It was also difficult to look away.

“You could have stared at me on the bed,” Felix muttered, uncomfortable with the attention—which given his outfit was inane.

“If I knew wagers could bring this out of you,” Dimitri said, finally picking up the sword from where he’d tossed it. “I would’ve tried that years ago.”

“Tch,” Felix scoffed, but a flush covered his cheeks.

Dimitri moved to the front of him, weighing the sword in his hand carefully, then he pressed the cold steel to the side of Felix’s knee. Felix twitched from the sensation but did not pull back, which was good as while the edges were blunted, Dimitri did not want to cause any harm.

Once assured Felix was not going to move, he moved the flat edge of the blade up the inside of Felix’s bare thigh.

Felix hissed out a breath and clenched his fists. “There aren’t any clothes there.”

“I’m examining the field,” Dimitri said. He repeated the motion with the inside of Felix’s other thigh and smiled as he saw Felix’s lace framed member start to stiffen again. “The extent to which you adore sword work always surprises me,” Dimitri said.

Felix glowered at him. “It isn’t like you aren’t obviously enjoying this.”

“I have had many enjoyable moments with you and your sword,” Dimitri agreed and fought a grin at Felix’s sputtering reply.

He drew the sword back and then moved around Felix to look at the back of him. With his hair down his back and the way his muscles flexed when he stood, it was an entirely different perspective, but no less captivating. Dimitri also was pleased to see while the pink had mostly faded, he could still see teeth imprints where he’d marked him.

“Relax and stay still,” he ordered and waited until Felix loosened the fists at his sides to continue. The pointed edge of the sword was still sharp, so Dimitri applied the lightest pressure he could manage as he drew it up Felix’s spine, parallel to where the lace lay. Felix’s breath catching was audible, but he didn’t move.

For as much as Felix protested Dimitri even holding something as precious as an artisan made sword, the fact that he not only trusted Dimitri enough with this but seemed aroused by it warmed something in him. “I would have won if you hadn’t worn that blasted thing,” Dimitri said.

Felix laughed. “Yet you didn’t.”

Dimitri drew the sword back and walked around again, confirming Felix’s smug state and then smacked his exposed rear with the flat end of the sword, only hard enough to surprise him and turn his smugness into annoyance (and arousal) again.

“Are you going to actually start at some point?” Felix asked, absently digging his fingers into his own thighs.

Dimitri walked around to face Felix and then took a step back so that he could trail the sword in the front as he had in the back. He drew it up along Felix’s breastbone, the faint mark of the point of the blade fading as soon as it passed and then trailed it down, a feather touch against the lace and over one of Felix’s covered nipples, drawing a small soft, “Ah,” from his lips.

The audible swallow and fact that Felix was now achingly hard was a fair indicator he wasn’t actually minding in the slightest that Dimitri had not yet removed his lingerie. Dimitri made his trail to the other nipple, but seeing Felix’s eyes sharply focused only on Dimitri and not the sword… well patience was rarely ever either of their friends.

Dimitri could not help the mournful sigh as he walked behind Felix and then sliced a single cut across the lace in the back, allowing the entire piece to be pulled off with a tug of his fingers.

“You lost again,” Felix said, a little breathless and more than a little stunning as he glanced over his shoulder at Dimitri, eyes hooded and dark.

“Did I, my love?” Dimitri asked, holding up what now felt like scraps of lace too small to ever have fit around Felix’s muscular form.

Felix stared at it and then turned around and snatched it from Dimitri, eyeing the small slice in the lace where he’d cut. The seam had been very small, merely a way to attach it to the rest of the lace, but slicing there meant none of the fabric was damaged—which was in the bounds of fair play.

Felix looked up from the garment, stepped forward, and dragged Dimitri down for a biting kiss. He grabbed the sword from Dimitri, the moment his grip loosened and then looked Dimitri over. “My turn,” he said.

Dimitri had no choice but to acquiesce when threatened by such a skilled swordsman. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few months later, when the weather had turned bitterly cold and Dimitri had managed to make it past another year, Felix set a wrapped gift on the table in front of him. Dimitri opened the long box, inside was the Zoltan sword, a bow around the hilt.
> 
> “You’re… giving this to me?”
> 
> “I bought it for you,” Felix said, leaning against him and snorting. “You’re unbearably nosy and found it early. I didn’t want you breaking it before I could actually gift it, brute.”


	2. Throne Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Throne Coda detailing Felix's win of the bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was ofc longer than I meant it to be. Throne Coda for the previous entry. 
> 
> @waffle_fancy on twitter

“You don’t think that’s a bit much?” Felix asked, his arms crossed over his chest, eyebrow cocked in Dimitri’s direction. “You’re the king and you ordered no one in, not to mention you _locked_ the door.”

“You didn’t put conditions on this, Felix,” Dimitri said, attempting not to sound peevish. He wasn’t sure if he was actually sore about losing or if this entire idea was still so… odd.

He didn’t even use the throne room often. Dimitri preferred having audiences in less intimidating settings, unless a particularly priggish noble required the pageantry to stop whatever needless trouble they were causing. If he was actually going to listen to people (especially common-folk), sitting far above them in an overly ornate chair only seemed as if it would discourage their honesty.

“I didn’t think I needed to tell you that putting a giant stone griffin statue in front of the door was excessive,” Felix said, making no effort to _not_ sound peevish. He stared at Dimitri and then looked away, cheeks slightly pink. “If you actually attempt to enjoy this, I’ll buy another… outfit.”

That did a considerable amount to soften Dimitri’s mood to this entire farce. Even if he’d cheated, he supposed Felix had won and it hadn’t been too much the loss for Dimitri. He stepped forward and wrapped his hands around Felix, kissing him softly. “How would you like this debasement of all tradition to go then, my love?”

Felix was still not meeting his eye, but was smirking. “Go sit and find out.”

Dimitri sat on his oft neglected throne and watched as Felix went to his knees in an approximation of deference. This was exactly what he did not want.

Felix rested his hands on Dimitri’s knees and looked up at him. “What now?”

“It’s uncomfortable,” Dimitri said. “Its as if I ordered you to service me on the throne.”

As Felix had been studying Dimitri’s face, it was easy to see when his own expression shifted to that of desire. “And?”

“Is that… you’d enjoy that?” Dimitri asked, slightly confounded considering Felix never appreciated when Dimitri pulled rank.

“You’re not ordering me,” Felix pointed out, the hands on Dimitri’s knees sliding up his thighs and resting against the inside of his hips. “I’m _offering_ to service my king.”

Felix’s thumbs were now brushing against the front of Dimitri’s pants, which caused his voice to be a little strained, “It feels morally objectionable to have the king’s advisor _service_ his royal scepter.”

Felix groaned in annoyance and rested his forehead on Dimitri’s knee. He then lifted his head and a look of determined stubbornness was on his face. “First off, don’t _ever_ call your dick that again. Secondly, it isn’t the advisor wanting to service their king or a king. It is _me_ wanting to service _my_ king.”

“Ah,” Dimitri said, inarticulately as his mouth was feeling dry. He steadied his breathing and looked down at Felix, staring up at him from between his knees, offering this specifically for him and stopped caring about implications. “Go on then,” Dimitri said, and leaned back in his seat.

Felix’s hands on his thighs moved to untie the laces on Dimitri’s pants, freeing his only partially aroused length from its restraints. Felix then moved Dimitri’s knees aside to get closer between them and wrapped his fingers around the base of it, working Dimitri slowly in a way that he knew to be effective.

Dimitri was half hard by the time Felix’s sharp, warm mouth engulfed him. The feeling of it was always different than anything else. Felix hardly attempted to take him all the way down his throat and instead utilized his long expert swordsman fingers to trace around the base of Dimitri’s cock and then down to tap and fondle his scrotum. Meanwhile, that clever mouth of his made use of caressing and lapping at Dimitri’s frenulum.

It was not long before Dimitri was hard, and sooner still when Felix had stopped. Dimitri grunted his disapproval, aware of the hypocrisy and not caring at the moment, but then Felix rose to standing and began removing all of his clothes.

He allowed Dimitri to steady him as his boots came off but, smacked him away for the rest, making him watch the process of Felix’s undressing until he was achingly hard. Soon enough Felix was stark.

Felix straddled Dimitri on the throne, pressing his legs together with his own framing them. Dimitri cupped Felix from behind, squeezing the cheeks of his ass, earning an aroused moan from Felix.

Felix brushed Dimitri’s hair from his face and looked at him with the kind of glowing affection he was usually too embarrassed to openly display. “My king,” he repeated and then brought one of Dimitri’s hands to his mouth, applying the same dedicated attention to his fingers as he’d done for his cock.

After Felix seemed satisfied with the spit slickness there, Dimitri began fingering him open, enjoying the writhing display as Felix clenched around him, completely bare.

Once Felix had settled himself fully sheathed on Dimitri’s length, his entire back exposed to the room, Dimitri started to understand the appeal.

Felix began to ride him and Dimitri murmured into his neck, “You’re picturing an audience.” Felix’s responding whimper in his ear was a confirmation as he sank down onto Dimitri’s cock again. “You want everyone to see you like this,” Dimitri said, scraping his teeth against the long line of Felix’s throat. “You want everyone to know that you’re in the king’s bed night after night. That he can have you anywhere he pleases at any time.”

Felix’s fingers on his shoulders tightened almost painfully. “Fuck.”

Dimitri drew his fingers up the sides of Felix’s back and then brought them down again, holding his hips in place so he could not continue his pace. “I’ve thought about it before,” Dimitri said, enjoying the shiver that he could see through Felix’s entire bare form. “Seeing you during council, wondering what it would be like to stake my claim for everyone to see, drive into you—” he emphasized the last part by dragging Felix’s down onto his cock “—over the table.”

Felix panted and hid his face as he said, “Why don’t you?”

Rousing heat at the idea shot through Dimitri and he dragged Felix down again. He thrust his hips up simultaneously, ripping a loud wanton moan from Felix that surely even the guards outside could hear. “Is that what you want, Felix?” Dimitri asked. “For me to show everyone who you belong to? Who you serve?”

Felix shook over him, whining as he tried to bounce on Dimitri’s cock and change the pace. Dimitri didn’t let him, holding his hips in place. His voice was breathless as he called Dimitri’s name like a plea.

Dimitri kept the pace slow, enjoying the way he filled Felix, stretched to fit him and only him. “Where else should I take you?” Dimitri asked. “Hmm?”

“Anywhere,” Felix gasped as Dimitri increased the pace.

“The balcony?” Dimitri asked. “With full view of the kingdom, seeing their king take you?”

Felix growled at that.

“ _My_ king,” he said and kissed Dimitri fiercely and with mostly teeth.

Impossible to keep teasing him after that. Dimitri loosened his bruising grip on Felix’s hips and jerked his hips up in time with Felix’s own frantic movements.

They kissed messily, desperately, until Felix came in a spurt over Dimitri’s front. Felix lay limp against him, hands caressing Dimitri’s neck as he whispered encouragements for Dimitri to take his own fill and Dimitri did, gripping Felix’s hips again until he could drag him down at a pounding pace and meet his own completion.

Catching his breath after a moment, softening inside of Felix, Dimitri cupped his face and kissed him softly. Felix murmured an incoherent affection at that and untangled himself enough to slide off Dimitri’s cock and shift until he was more seated on Dimitri’s lap.

Dimitri wrapped his arms around Felix and pressed his lips to whatever skin he could see nearest, which was most of it, until Felix was dragging him back into a proper kiss, clinging to him again. Finally, Felix rested his head on Dimitri’s shoulder and Dimitri held him tighter.

“Happy I won?” Felix asked, a smile pressed to Dimitri’s neck.

“No,” Dimitri said, honestly — he was still a little sore over it. “Although not entirely disappointed.”

“Mmm,” Felix replied with alanguid stretch of his legs that had one of them hooked over the armrest of the throne.

“The guards likely heard us,” Dimitri said.

“They’ve heard worse,” Felix replied, unconcerned.

“Should I invite them to watch next time?” Dimitri teased, unable to see if he’d made Felix blush or not, but did feel the protesting smack to his chest in response.

“No, you animal.”

“Don’t give me that, love,” Dimitri chided. “You were far from _disinterested_ in the idea.”

“It’s—don’t—I’m not—” Felix stumbled over his words and then pounded his fist onto Dimitri’s chest and hid his face completely in his collar. “Shut up.”

Dimitri took pity on him, mostly because he was still full in the chest at Felix’s possessive utterance of _‘my king_ ’. He pressed his cheek the top of Felix’s head and said, in late agreement, “I am yours.”

Felix did not lift his head, but held Dimitri a little tighter in response, which was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The guards _have_ heard worse.


End file.
